


A Matter of Ten Galleons

by MiraMira



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: 100-1000 Words, Break Up, F/M, One Shot, Rare Pairing, missing moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-27
Updated: 2009-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-03 21:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraMira/pseuds/MiraMira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Penelope Clearwater always considered her boyfriend a man of good common sense - until she made a bet with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Ten Galleons

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Hogwarts Elite contest

Penelope Clearwater prided herself on her intelligence and good judgment, which was why she had always ignored general public opinion concerning her boyfriend. What they saw as overzealousness, she saw as good common sense. All prefects were supposed to uphold the rules, especially at a time when the tiniest slip might allow Sirius Black an opportunity to strike again; as Head Boy and brother to one of the witnesses of the recent attack, Percy's responsibilities were even clearer. Besides, he had never treated her with the condescension her housemates complained about.

Until now.

"A shame about the rain, isn't it?" she heard Percy ask from behind her, in a drawl she was coming to dread. She resisted the urge to sigh audibly or speed up, reminding herself how pleased she'd been when he'd set a few of their patrol schedules to coincide. "I suppose this means Ravenclaw's Quidditch team won't get to practice as thoroughly as hoped."

"Gryffindor's won't, either," she pointed out.

"Ah, but they're not signed up for the pitch right now." He was walking alongside her now, but it didn't matter; even without looking, she could hear the smirk in his voice. "And I doubt Wood would let a little thing like the weather stop him. However much I've complained about his endless chatter when he's in the common room, I have to give him credit: he seems to know what it takes to produce champions."

Penelope turned the corner, grateful for an opportunity to hide her grimace. "Don't get too confident. The season's not over yet."

"That it isn't." Percy darted ahead of her, leaning against the wall to block her path. The smirk looked wider than ever. "Care to make a wager on how it'll end?"

That did it. She was tired of indulging him. "No," she said flatly as she stepped to the other side of the corridor and walked past him.

He caught up to her quickly, grin still in place. Perhaps she'd underestimated his capacity to know when to back off, too. "Why, Penny! Lost your taste for gambling?"

She sped up. "I never had any to begin with."

"Oh, really?" Her classmates were wrong about one thing: he must have inherited some of the Weasley athletic ability if he could keep pace with her and not get winded. "I don't seem to recall suggesting we place ten Galleons on the last match, or boasting that Potter must still be shaken from the Hufflepuff game. Why, if Ravenclaw had won, you'd be trying to double your winnings."

Penelope stopped walking, the better to turn and face him. "No, I wouldn't!" In the echoing corridor, her voice carried further than she had intended. "I was never going to ask you for the money at all!"

The combination of the sudden stop and shouting sent Percy skidding into a wall. It was difficult to tell whether his stunned expression when he straightened up was more the result of what she'd said or the lump on the side of his head he was rubbing, but his question sounded less pained than confused. "What?"

From the moment she'd chosen not to let the teasing pass, she'd known this was where the conversation would lead. Only the suspicion that he wouldn't stop badgering her until he got a complete explanation kept her from denying the remark had meant anything. "I knew you didn't have ten Galleons. I knew you didn't even have ten Knuts. I knew you were tired of me having to pay for everything in Hogsmeade and how everyone would talk when I did. And I knew you wouldn't take anything from me, either, even if I offered. So I thought…"

"…If I won it, that would make it all right?"

She nodded.

Percy slowly dropped his hand to his side, jaw set. She hadn't seen him look this angry since Fred and George had burst in on them on the train ride back to Kings' Cross last summer. "Weasleys don't take charity, Penny. Of any kind. From anyone."

The words were out before she could stop herself. "Do Weasleys at least admit when they've been behaving like prats?"

He fixed her with a cold, hard stare for several seconds. Just as she was about to break the silence, he spoke in a voice to match. "I should go see Madam Pomfrey about this." He indicated the side of his head with a spare gesture. "I trust you can handle the rest of the patrol yourself, Prefect Clearwater?"

She wondered if he had any idea how much the sudden formality stung, then realized it was a stupid question. Of course he did. That was why he had done it. "Go on, then!" she called after his already retreating backside. "And good riddance!"

It was the last conversation they had not relating to school duties until Fred's memorial service years later. She'd only intended to stay long enough to pay her respects to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but as she reached the exit doors, she found him blocking her path.

"In case you were wondering," he said quietly, "the answer to your question is yes."

Before she could respond, he pressed something heavy into her hand. She looked down to see a small pile of Galleons, then looked back up. He smiled at her.

And just like that, all was repaid.


End file.
